


Irony

by elliot_the_wizard



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Death, Self Harm, So much angst, Suicidal Thoughts, after 511, bye, he dies, im gonna go die, im literally a terrible person, malec break up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 20:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11471454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliot_the_wizard/pseuds/elliot_the_wizard
Summary: After the infamous page 511. Alec has taken the pain far worse then Magnus ever meant it. He has held the burden himself, with nobody else to help and only one form of relief. When the day comes, will he finally just give up? Or will he fight. I was having a bad day and decided to transfer that on like the nice person I am. Warning: Cutting. Major character death.





	Irony

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a terrible person...

Irony, in itself, was incredibly ironic. It really makes sense when you think about it. The very reason he was doing what he was doing, the very person that provoked him to do so, was the same person he thought about when he did it. Not with contempt, though. He thought about how sorry he was, and how much he loved them. It was his fault, and he was paying for it. Nobody else should have to, it was his burden, and his alone. Said person wouldn't care, they never did before, so they had no reason to do so now. These were the thought running through Alec Gideon Lightwood's mind as he sat in the bathroom, a knife in one hand, and a bloody bandage in the other. He wrapped the bandage around his wrist, wincing as he did so. It had been months, and some of the cuts had started to scar, whereas most of them were raw and bleeding. They hurt so much. But he deserved the pain. It was his fault, after all. He had been careful over the past months. He locked himself in his room at night time, and constantly refused to go on hunts with his family. He didn't stop going on hunts though. Quite the contrary, actually. All day, and usually most of the night, he ran about the streets of New York, hunting demons and throwing himself into fate's arms. Oblivious of the world around him, he sat with his head rested against the wash basin, a look of pain on his sunken face as the cuts on his arms rubbed against the long sleeves of his shirt. He needed to get out. He blinked a few times, rubbing the tears from his eyes, before leaping to his feet, wobbling slightly because of lost blood. Not feeling like walking through the institute, he added the strength rune to his body before pushing open the window, looking at the seven stories between him and the ground and jumped. He winced, ignoring the pain in his legs as they hit the rough gravel of the ground. He staggered to the place he always went when he was feeling particularly depressed. After ten minutes of moving one foot in front of the other he reached his destination. Slumping against the tiled walls of the tunnel, he tuned the rest of the world out, and focused on the blood rushing in his ears, his heat beating in his chest. It was rather melodic, actually, and he allowed his thoughts to be carried away on the wind. Suddenly he heard a noise in front of him. Usually with his Nephilim strength and speed, he would snap open his eyes and leap up to his feet. Now, all he did was allow his eyes to flutter open and stare at the person in front of him. Sadly, it wasn't a person at all, but a demon. It approached him slowly, a proud look in its beady lack eyes. A great kill it thought. An angel. Far from it Alec thought in return, glaring at the demon. Daring him to come closer. When the demon did, it did so hesitantly, as if it still expected the Shadowhunter to stand up and slice his head off. All the man did, though, was shut his eyes and await the inevitable pain. When he came, he thought of him again. It was always and forever him. He would be his best memory, his worst memory, and his last memory. As the darkness took over his view, the cold seeping into the very core of his body, he muttered the first words for months and his last words forever. "I'm sorry Magnus."

**Author's Note:**

> *hides*


End file.
